The Queen of Stone: Thorn of Breland (2 page)

The sheet was covered in words written in gleaming golden ink. In her peripheral vision, she’d seen a spidery, alien alphabet. Yet as she looked at the text, it flowed before her eyes, resolving into new shapes and intelligible words. It was an account of the action seen in the picture—the legendary knight Harryn Stormblade’s encounter with Sarmondelaryx, the Bane of Thrane.

Fascinating
. It was the first time Thorn had heard any hint of surprise in Steel’s voice.
I can’t imagine how this was made. This is what we are looking for, Lantern Thorn. Pay him and return to safer ground
.

And then I want some answers, Thorn thought. She couldn’t voice her questions around the goblin, so she sheathed the dagger and nodded to Kalakhesh.

“Satisfied?” The goblin closed the book and the light faded.

“Yes.” Holding out her hand, Thorn stared at her palm, tracing an arcane pattern with her thoughts. With her mind, she reached into her glove, into the small pocket of space mystically bound to the leather. She pulled, and a leather pouch appeared in her palm. Tugging at the cords, she held the bag open so Kalakhesh could see the glittering red stones within. “Twenty thousand galifars in Narathun rubies. Do you want to inspect them?”

“Unlike you, I have confidence in my allies,” Kalakhesh smiled, his eyes cold. “I doubt your Citadel would risk the wrath of the Silent Knives for such a small sum.” He slid the book toward Thorn, reaching out for the treasure bag. He released the book as his fingers tightened on the pouch, and he rose to his feet.

Thorn ran the fingers of her left hand across the cover of the book. Even through her gloves, the leather felt warm and soft, all too close to human flesh. She pressed her palm against the book and concentrated; the tome vanished, drawn into the space vacated by the pouch of gems. “How did you get it?”

She didn’t expect a response, but the goblin surprised her. “Luck, more than anything,” he said. “And not a risk I’d take again, knowing what I would gain. I’d hoped to find a treasure for my people, not a curiosity for yours that would drive me from this country. I am glad to be done with it, and it is well enough that I am done with this place and still alive.” Kalakhesh put the gems in his sack and threw the larger bag over his shoulder. “Give me a few steps before you follow.”

Thorn nodded and moved out of his way. “Good fortune on your return.”

“And you. Stay to the shadows. This is a bad place for my kind, and far worse for yours.”

Kalakhesh disappeared around the bend in the tunnel.

The sounds of the brawl had ended, and Thorn wondered if the ogre had won her bout. If so, she’d probably be fighting again by the time Thorn emerged. They didn’t call it The Bloody Tooth for nothing. Thorn resolved to give him the count of two hundred before she followed.

Five.

Ten.

PAIN!

Every nerve in Thorn’s body burned in agony. She fought against the pain, refusing to pass out. She clung to it, analyzed it, anything to distract her from the torment. And then it was over, leaving her shaken but still standing.

Kalakhesh
. The alien voice hissed in Thorn’s mind. It sent a shiver of fear through her, like a nightmare she had thought she’d forced from her memory.
You have taken something from the Daughters of Sora Kell, silent singer. I will have the book, and your secrets with it
.

“Lovely,” Thorn whispered.

T
he pain fades soon, little thief
. The thought rose in her mind, carrying an awful sense of violation and shame, horribly different from her psychic rapport with Steel.
The pain fades soon, and I will feast on your knowledge. All that I wish, you will tell me. All that remains, I will devour
.

Whatever was out there, it wanted the stolen book. She had to escape before Kalakhesh revealed the book’s new owner, and there was only one way out of the Bloody Tooth. But Thorn had no intention of charging blindly into the unknown. She whispered a phrase she’d learned at the Citadel, letting her fingers dance along with the syllables, and as she spoke she could feel the power building within her. A tingling sensation swept over her skin as the last syllable left her lips, but there was no time to evaluate the results of her spell.

As soon as she’d made the final gesture, she began again, working her way through another incantation. This one was more difficult, and she could feel the energy fighting her; just speaking the words of the spell was a challenge, each syllable forced through her lips. This was a ritual of invisibility, and as she finished she saw her hands fade before her. A wondrous gift for a spy, but with
limitations. The veil lasted for only a few minutes, and it required a balance of intention—the magic hid her from enemies, but if she harmed another, the spell would shatter and she would be revealed.

Thorn mouthed a silent, instinctive prayer to Olladra as she crept along the fissure, and thought of her father. He had raised her in the faith of the Sovereign Host, before the gods abandoned him to die in the Last War. She quietly drew her sharpest dagger—even if Olladra was listening, trust in her blades was more reliable than trust in any miracle.

There was no time to discuss the situation with Steel, and she trusted that he’d keep silent; she couldn’t afford distractions. It took only a moment to reach the mouth of the tunnel, and trusting her invisibility, Thorn stepped into the open room.

Kalakhesh stood before her. His muscles were rigid, veins standing out like thick twine, and his bag lay on the floor beside him. The patrons of the Bloody Tooth watched from the shadows—goblin, gnoll, and gargoyle alike shocked into silence by the presence of the creature walking slowly toward Kalakhesh. The stranger wore a robe of black and red silk, with a high collar rising around his head. He was as gaunt as an old man, skin stretched tight across his bones. But this was no man. His oily flesh was the pale green of a dying toad. Four tentacles emerged from his chin, writhing and clutching at the air. His eyes were pale, bloated orbs with no trace of iris or pupil. His appearance was horrifying, but worse, as he drew closer, Thorn could feel the creature’s thoughts wash over her … a ripple of malevolence, an echo of every humiliation she’d tried to forget.

Mind flayer
, Steel whispered.

Despite the growing influence of the Daughters of Sora Kell, the land of Droaam was a realm ruled by fear. Ogres and harpies easily terrified humans, but it took something
truly horrifying to frighten
them
. Mind flayers could read thoughts and crush the willpower of any being, and they fed on the brains of the living. This tentacled monster wasn’t lying. He would enslave Kalakhesh, and when the goblin had revealed everything, the flayer would consume what was left of his mind.

Xorchylic
, Steel said.
The lord of Graywall. Any flayer would be dangerous, but you cannot fight this one. We must leave. NOW!

Thorn knew he was right, and yet she hesitated. The mind flayer moved slowly, basking in the terror of the audience. Paralyzed by psychic pain, Kalakhesh could only watch his death approaching. An awful way for anyone to die, but worse still for a spy. Knowing that he would be forced to betray his country, that every secret would be stripped from him …

What are you waiting for?
Steel hissed.
Go!

Thorn sidled up to Kalakhesh, carefully studying his neck. A revolting shiver of joy swept over her, the triumph of the flayer as it reached out for its prey. As Steel shouted in her thoughts, Thorn seized the goblin’s head with one hand and struck with the other. Kalakhesh jerked as the enchanted blade severed his spine and drove into his brain, but it was pure reflex; it was a perfect killing blow, and Thorn knew he was dead on his feet.

She slammed the heel of her hand against the goblin’s head, forcing her blade free of its grisly sheath and driving the corpse forward. Blood and brain matter burst from the wound, spattering her right hand. But that was the least of her concerns. As Kalakhesh’s corpse fell to its knees in front of the mind flayer, a tingling sizzled across Thorn’s skin as her bloody blade appeared before her. Thorn had sought to spare the goblin from a horrible death, but for all that it was merciful, it was an act of aggression. Thorn had shattered her invisibility, and as the first drop of his blood struck the granite floor, she flickered into view.

She knew she couldn’t fight Xorchylic. He was too strong, one of the chosen lieutenants of the Daughters of Sora Kell. The master of Graywall would shatter her will and consume her mind, and no one would drive a dagger through her brain. There was only one thing she could do. As she shimmered into view, she stared directly into the mind flayer’s eyes.

For an instant she saw her image reflected in the pale white orbs, saw the snakes coiling around her head and the scales covering her skin. Then Xorchylic jerked away, raising his hands to shield his eyes, a satisfying pulse of pure terror radiating from his mind.

It took something terrifying indeed to frighten a mind flayer.

Thorn snatched Kalakhesh’s bag off the floor and leaped forward, racing toward the arch leading to the street. The creatures in her way cried out in shock and fear, turning away and covering their faces. As she ran, Thorn thrust her hand inside the sack. Dropping her weapon into the space within, she formed an image of the bag of rubies in her mind, and as she’d hoped, she felt the contents shift and the purse rise into her grasp.

STOP!!!
The thought was carried on a wave of agony. All around Thorn, creatures twitched and screamed. A goblin collapsed, and a gargoyle dug furrows in its stony skin with its claws. But the pain flowed around her. She could feel the flayer’s fury, though it was a distant echo; something pushed it away from her mind. Thorn didn’t waste time questioning her good fortune. In his anger, the mind flayer had inadvertently stunned anyone who might have tried to block Thorn’s path, including his own minions. Three ogres and a troll wearing the armor of the Flayer Guards spanned the archway, but all were moaning and clawing at their skulls.

She slipped between the wart-covered legs of the troll, pulled the gem pouch from the sack and scattered
the contents behind her, littering the floor with rubies. The stones would make for treacherous footing, and she could already hear the yelps of gamblers as greed warred with fear. Trusting that the chaos would buy her a few moments, Thorn leaped through the open arch and into the night that lay beyond.

T
hree full moons hung in the sky over Bone Lane. Graywall was a nocturnal city, and those creatures that shunned the sun came out to barter and fight under the light of the moons. Bursting out of the Bloody Tooth, Thorn ran headlong into the milling throng of monsters. She pressed into the crowd, darting between the legs of giants and leaping over goblins, weaving her way through the maze of flesh and fur. An orc stepped into her path, a squat warrior with steel-tipped tusks and an ugly cleaver. As soon as he caught her eye, the orc gave a strangled cry, dropping his blade and hurling himself out of her way.

A narrow alley lay to her right, and Thorn ducked into the opening. She’d done some scouting before her meeting—a little labyrinth of narrow passages hid that way, too small for any ogre or troll to follow. She took a moment to rest and to remember the path to return to the palace.

A puddle of water lay ahead of her, and Thorn studied her reflection. Her skin was covered with coppery scales, her teeth sharp needles, and her hair was a mane of living serpents, coiled as if ready to strike. The face of a medusa. It was the first spell she’d cast in the Bloody
Tooth—an illusion to cloak her appearance, disguising herself as this monster. The people of Droaam dealt with medusas, and they knew the deadly consequences of meeting a medusa’s gaze. Though Thorn’s eyes lacked that mystical power, the fear was sufficient to shake even Xorchylic. The disguise wouldn’t hold up under long examination, but it had served its purpose. Her reflection blurred as the mystical energies faded, and Thorn could see her own true face. She reached into Kalakhesh’s sack and retrieved her dagger.